But Maybe We'll Live Forever

The slow cruise through Battery City was agonizing. I wondered if this was how people going to battle had felt like back when war existed. It was the worst feeling in the world mixed with a strange hype and excitement.

“I’m scared,” Grace said in a small voice, speaking out how we all felt.

“It’s going to be just fine, Sunshine,” Bulletproof Liberation said, kissing the little girl on the head and hugging her close. “We’re going to make an attack on Better Living – possibly see if we can get Korse – and then get out of there. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Even Grace could tell that Bulletproof was trying to convince herself of what she was saying. And, of course, that it wasn’t working whatsoever.

“So,” I said, trying to make my voice sound firm. “Have any of you done this before?”

“Me,” Ritalin Revolver said. “About four of my friends got ghosted, though.”

“Comforting.”

“It’s a fact of life nowadays, Battery.”

“I know. But—”

“No buts. Killjoys fight and Killjoys die. The rest of us just gotta make sure it isn’t in vain.”

“She’s right,” Galaxy Escape chimed in quietly. “I learned that lesson the hard way. But it’s true. Even if you see someone die in front of you, you’ve got to keep fighting. Even if you think there isn’t any hope.”

I felt stressed, overwhelmed tears fill my eyes. I tried to swallow them back, creating a burning, painful lump in my throat. I looked down at my shoes and did my best to keep the tears away, but they kept on threatening to spill at any moment. I needed some water, but just my luck, it was all in the trunk.

Ritalin turned on the radio and flipped through some channels until she found WKIL 109 FMX; Dr. Death Defying’s channel. The familiar, rich voice came through the static-filled speakers. “Hello there, Killjoys and motorbabies! Everybody be aware that the danger in the zones is high today. News has gotten out of Killjoys being seen runnin’ amuck and exterminators have been sent out to every zone. Keep your neon selves outta Battery City if you can help it, ‘cause the security is on high today. Here’s a little diddy by The Mad Gear and The Missile Kid to keep you motivated, entitled F.T.W.W.W. Enjoy and keep safe, junk punks.”

More static came through the speakers before we had time to panic about the news. Loud guitars and drums began banging rebelliously. Ritalin had to turn it down so that we wouldn’t draw attention to ourselves with this type of music. It had been banned long ago.

Choppy, clever, vicious vocals began. By the time the second chorus came around, we had abandoned our sorrows and were singing along with the rebellious tune.

“She said come on, come on, kiss my battery
Come on, come on, I’ll be your android girl
She said come on, come on, lick that battery,
Come on, come on and fuck the whole wide world!”

We parked a few miles away from the headquarters in a nice hidden alley and got out, the song still ringing in our ears, making us pumped and ready to fight. Our sadness had been abandoned and replaced with a sense of readiness and hype. We were ready to take on Better Living Industries and Korse.

A few moments later, the other boys parked behind us and jumped out, also prepared. They were touching their guns subconsciously and flipping the hair out of their wild eyes.

At that moment, with that look in their eyes, I remembered when I first joined with them. When they rescued me. They had that same look in their eyes: mischief, joy, and anger with a glittering hint of just the right amount of madness and insanity. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Are we ready?” Party Poison asked in that strong voice of his, scanning all of us.

“Yes,” we all replied in unison.

“I said ARE WE READY?” Party Poison repeated, louder this time, shooting his fist up into the air.

“YES!” we all yelled, doing the same.

A proud smile lit up Party’s features. “Guns?”

We lifted ours up into the air.

“Jackets?”

We motioned to them.

“Tied boots?”

We checked and nodded.

Party Poison took out his gun and flipped it once, blowing into the tip and grinning. “Then let’s kick some Better Living Industries ass.”

We all yelled in agreement and began to follow Party as he led us in an almost march as we walked toward the Better Living Industries headquarters shamelessly. Civilians saw us and began going into a panic as we entered the glass doors to the white building.

An alarm went off almost immediately as we entered.

We were officially on the radar.

Madness ensued.

Everyone in the building began going into lockdown mode. People who weren’t in high authority hid under their desks and bit back screams. Louder, more frantic sirens began and we heard the sound of Draculoids and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit members beginning to run, walk, and march toward us. We heard the clicking of guns being cocked.

“Party time,” Party Poison said, smirking.

He took out his gun and lifted it to the high ceiling, letting a shot go. Behind him, the rest of us did the same, keeping calm smirks on our faces (besides little Grace, who was holding Bulletproof Liberation’s free hand and smiling in a creepy-sweet way at everyone).

We split up right after that and began running down halls and shooting our guns at the ceilings. I heard some clatter behind me and saw that Fun Ghoul had knocked over a cart full of medication on it and was having a face off with a Better Living agent. I knew I couldn’t stop running, so I turned back and continued to bolt forward.

I opened the door to a medication testing room and ran in quickly, letting the door close behind me. Two pairs of eyes were on me: a Better Living agent in a lab coat holding some sort of syringe, and a broken down, terrified looking Killjoy strapped onto a table.

“What do we have here?” I asked, taking out my gun and pointing it at the agent. “If you know what’s best for you, you will let my friend go.”

The agent smirked at me. “Do your worst, Killjoy,” she spat. “You’re alone and I have a group of ten Draculoids coming down to keep this area secure.”

“Well I don’t see anyone,” I said, and pulled the trigger to my gun.

The agent clutched her leg and collapsed to the floor.

I smiled and kneeled over her. “You’re lucky I’m one of the merciful ones. I could’ve killed you, but I didn’t. I hope you’re fucking thankful.”

I got up and began unstrapping the Killjoy from the table. “You got yourself into some trouble, huh, junk punk?” I asked. “What’s your name?”

“Death Melody,” the girl said, shaking.

She was tall – taller than me – and had pale white skin with black hair and a few red streaks in it. Her purple eye make up was smeared from tears and torture and lack of sleep. Her brown-almost-black eyes were hanging on to the life left in them. The back of her jacket had the symbol of a musical note with an X underneath it.

“Death Melody, can you fight?” I asked.

“They took my gun,” she said.

“Do you know where it is?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

“Then you better run. Do you know the way out?”

“Y-yes.”

“Get gone. Try to make your way to Dr. Death-Defying’s. He’ll patch you up.”

She nodded and got up, getting ready to run out. Before she bolted out the door, she stopped. “What’s your name?” she asked, her eyes on me.

“Atomic Battery,” I replied, knocking over a shelf full of Better Living medicine.

She nodded and gave me a weak smile. “I owe you one, Atomic Battery. We’ll meet again. And I’ll be sure to make it up to you. If you need anything, just call my name.” And with that, she was gone.

“Please, God, if you exist, let her make it out alive,” I mumbled and bolted out the door myself, continuing to run down the hall until I reached a flight of stairs that I began to climb. I made my way to the top and began running to the nearest door.

I ran in, only to be in another hallway. It was filled with WANTED posters of Killjoys. I recognized some of them. I recognized my group. I pulled my eyes away and began running down the hall.

Almost immediately, Draculoids came down from the stairs at the far end of the hall.

I turned to one of the doors. More Draculoids came out.

The other door? The same thing.

I looked behind me. Draculoids.

They all pointed their guns at me. I am going to die, I thought, a sinking feeling in me. I hadn’t been able to avenge my brother. I hadn’t been able to do anything—

“At ease,” a familiar voice I couldn’t place said.

The Draculoids put their guns down immediately in a robotic manner and stepped aside for the man to walk through.

“Hello, Shelby Chauncey,” Korse said pleasantly as he waded his way through the Dracs. “We were wondering what had happened to you.”